A Short Stories and Collected Prompts for QLFC Season 4
by corvusdraconis
Summary: I take the prompts from QLFC Rounds and make them into stories. The catch? I use ALL of them at once. This should be interesting. Short-Stories/One-Shots. Some will be humourous. Some will be tear-jerkers.
1. Round 1 04032016

**A/N:** This was written as a short to include ALL of the Round 1 prompts for QLFC Season 4 / Round 1 and it is unbetaed because it just fell out of my head.

* * *

1\. (song) 'Figure 8' by Ellie Goulding

2\. (word) Unpleasant

3\. (quote) "When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting." – Jon Kabat-Zinn

4\. (dialogue) "I really do like the pants."

5\. (word) Espresso

6\. (word) Inappropriate

7\. (dialogue) "If you don't eat your vegetables, you can't have any pudding."

8\. (quote) "People in their right minds never take pride in their talents." – Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_

9\. (emotion) Anger

10\. (word) Meadow

11\. (song) 'Graduation' by Vitamin C

12\. (class) Herbology

13\. (word) Tomorrow

14\. (word) Clock

15\. (dialogue) "I should warn you..."

* * *

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Psh," Severus scoffed. "That song is most unpleasant. Whatever it was called."

"Figure Eight?"

"Whatever."

"You're just angry that Pomona won the wireless roulette today, Severus," Hermione chuckled.

"No, I'm bored, but my ears are just fine."

"When you pay attention to boredom, it gets unbelievably interesting, Severus," Hermione chided.

"I would rather string Longbottom up with his Venomous Tentacula," he replied.

"As long as he isn't running around in his shiny pants again," Hermione noted. "I am not his wife, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't like knowing he sleep walks in his pants."

"I really do like the pants," Severus commented. "They are a stunning green. I don't care for the man wearing them."

Hermione arched a brow, sipping her espresso. "Mmmhmm. What other inappropriate thoughts are you harbouring, Severus?"

"Psh," he replied. "Eat your vegetables." He pointed his fork at her untouched vegetables.

Hermione gave him a pointed look.

"If you don't eat your vegetables, you can't have any pudding," he replied, arching a brow.

Hermione pointed her wand at her vegetables and turned it into a bread pudding and ate that instead.

"That was hardly fair," Severus noted. "Are you proud of yourself?"

"People in their right minds never take pride in their talents," Hermione quoted. "I'm quite proud of myself."

"Did you call yourself mental just now?" Severus asked.

"I did marry you, love," Hermione argued.

Severus flushed.

"Would you to please shut up!" Ron blurted angrily as he slammed his fist down. "I'm tired of listening to you argue like an old married couple!"

Severus and Hermione arched a brow together. "We are an old married couple."

"Couldn't you just take the kids to the meadow and bicker out there for a change?" Ron moaned.

"What, and ruin our perfect indoor track record we've kept since Hermione's third graduation since the age of 25?" Severus quipped. "You know the rules, Weasley. Kids can't go outside until their chores are done."

"I assigned them those chores! I can tell them to stop if I want to!" Ron argued.

"Yes, and you can teach Herbology too," Severus said, narrowing his eyes. "That doesn't mean we want you do or that you should.

Ron scoffed, waving his arms. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'mione." He shook his head and stormed off, slamming the door so hard the clock on the wall fell to the floor.

"I suppose I should warn you," Severus said absently, finishing the last of the grading.

"Oh?" Hermione asked as she tapped her quill to her cheek.

"I put a permanent sticking charm on Weasley's desk chair at the Auror's office for that dung bomb he had sent our daughter's room for "out classing Rose in fashion."

Hermione paused. "That obnoxiously heavy, iron chair that can barely move?"

Severus looked up. "Perhaps."

Hermione smiled evily. "I love you, husband."

Severus' dark eyes met hers. "Mission accomplished."


	2. Round 2 Prompts -- Night and Day

**A/N:** Using all optional prompts from Round II of Season IV. Warning. Tissues may be required for this story, unless you're SP, who apparently doesn't cry. Ever. heh.

(word) hangover

(dialogue) "This was the most fun I've ever had."

(word) procrastinate

(picture) images. /cover/i/009/284/113/tumblr_nrauxnmSE51sojkzpo1_ ?rect=50,0,400,400&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max

(quote) 'I want to see and understand the world outside.' - Eren Jaeger, Attack On Titan.

(song) 'Check Yes, Juliet' by We The Kings

(word) light

(picture) .wordpress 2012/09/depositphotos_

(word) watery

(dialogue) "You won't need any sun cream; it's not even that sunny!"

(song) 'Afterlife' by XYLO

(word) throw

(word) articulate

(quote) 'The starting point of all achievement is desire.' - Napoleon Hill

(dialogue) "It happened again, what do I do?"

 **QLFC Season IV - Round 2 - Optional Prompt Soufflé**

Severus woke in the early morning, as was the routine of countless years. His head was pounding, and he would have described it as the worst hangover of his life, had he not known he didn't drink anymore. Not since— why couldn't he remember?

He groaned and realised he had fallen asleep without his clothes again, which wasn't so much a horrible thing, as no one lived with him, but it was bloody _cold_ in the dungeons. He pulled his robes on, shivering as the cold cloth kissed his skin. He stumbled into a table that he could have _sworn_ should have been on the other side of the bed, and the light from the flickering candle abruptly called it quits and extinguished itself. He cursed softly, righting the table before he started a cascade of hot, molten wax or a fire, whichever came first. He grunted, shuffling unsteadily out of his bedroom with a pained groan as the illumination from the adjacent room hurt his eyes. A cup of coffee was waiting on the wooden counter. It sat in its gleaming white porcelain cup, a round, brass spoon sitting on the lip of the saucer. A small mini-pitcher of cream stood nearby along with his favourite book of poetry that had, admittedly, seen better days. The edges were darkened with age and exposure, and it smelled of a time long past. Still, the type was legible, unlike the page of randomly left graph paper that looked as though he had just scribbled randomly on it in blue ink until it resembled— hair? Whose hair would look like that? What was he thinking?

Severus blinked. The wooden counter was next to what appeared to be a window overlooking a Muggle street. He could see the tree outside, and a garage door yawned open, filled with stacks of something he couldn't quite identify scattered about. Even more strangely, he could smell the half-rainy scent of a gathering storm mixed with the scent of trees coming in from the open window. Rain was beginning to fall steadily on the sidewalk just outside, splattering the rapidly dampening concrete.

Severus picked up the cup of coffee, which was blissfully still hot. Apparently, he had left it out for himself the night before, but he couldn't seem to remember enchanting a wall to look like a real window. The coffee was just the way he liked it: rich and smokey with just a hint of bitterness. Maybe it would wake him up properly. Maybe then he would remember _why_ he enchanted a window in his wall.

A rustling alerted him that something was in his room, and he spun, wand at the ready.

A woman with bushy hair was sipping coffee from a cup that looked as though she had nicked it from his cupboard. She was absently feeding grapes to— Fawkes?

Anger filled him. These were _HIS_ quarters. His _home_. How dare someone— anyone— barge into it uninvited!

"What are you doing in my quarters?" he hissed, pointing his wand at his uninvited guest.

She turned suddenly, her thick outer robes that looked so terribly familiar swirling about her legs. Her brown eyes were a shifting brown from dark to light amber.

"Severus." Her eyes were watery with moisture. "Oh! It's morning. I'm sorry, I must have lost track of time."

"Lost your mind, perhaps," Snape growled. "What are you doing in my chambers at this hour, Granger?"

She winced. "I was grading. I woke up early."

"Woke up early and broke into my quarters?" Severus narrowed his eyes as he accused her.

"I was invited," she said quietly. Fawkes was preening her hair, looking at me like I was truly deserving of his sincere pity.

I didn't want anyone's sympathy, especially not some magical bird that was well-known to be Albus Dumbledore's familiar.

"I would well remember inviting you into my chambers, Granger," Severus snarled at her. "Get out."

The bushy-haired witch closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She set the cup down, took a pile of parchments from the nearby desk, and walked out. The phoenix on her shoulder warbled, and for a moment Severus felt an intense, keening, loneliness. "I' _m_ sorry, Severus. It won't happen again."

Granger in his quarters? What foul trick _was_ this? Just because she had agreed to come back and apprentice with both Minerva McGonagall and Septima Vector and train to take Minerva's place did not give her the right to bust into his quarters. Invite her? Impossible. He certainly would have remembered _THAT_.

Severus scoffed. That damnable bird of Dumbledore's—

It had disappeared after Albus died, but apparently, somehow, the bushy-haired wonder had acquired the bird's steadfast loyalty. Just _how_ she did that, he would likely never know. It was probably some sort of check and balance thing that he would never understand. She, Granger, was a part of that life he would never have. War hero with perfect regard, perfect skin, perfect lives. He would never be like them.

He stared at the pile of parchments on the shelf. He narrowed his eyes. The parchments were covering _something_. He moved them to the side to see that a picture frame had been wedged between the books. He picked it up and flipped it over.

It was a picture of the Black Lake, but there was something behind it.

He took off the back and pulled off the stand. A card fell out.

It was a postcard from Australia.

 _Australia?_

* * *

 _Dear Severus,_

 _Daddy used to tell me that I used to tug on his sleeves and drag him outside. He said I would always point out there into the great beyond and say "_ _I want to see the world outside_ _, Daddy!"_

 _Now that I'm here, all I want is to be back home. There is nothing here for me anymore. They don't remember me. I wish you could have known them. Mum was always so_ _articulate_ _. She always knew what to say to make things better. Dad would always hold me tight when I would_ _throw_ _a temper tantrum and send flower pots zinging through the air._

 _It's all gone now. I had to try. I had to—_

 _I'll be coming home tomorrow after I finish closing on the old house. I can't bear to live there, remembering everything and never having forgiveness for what I've done. They lived. That must be enough for me. I will pay for my betrayal until the end._

 _I miss you. Next year, let's go to China and walk the Great Wall together. I need to make some happier memories— and I want them to be with you. I'm done with putting things off. I'm done in not answering your question. I'm done with denying what a part of me has always known and yet throwing out excuses that I wanted my parents' blessing. I was scared, Severus. I was scared that I would wake up one morning and you will have forgotten me— just like my parents did._

 _And it would be all my fault._

 _I don't want to live a life without you, Severus. Can you forgive me for being afraid?_

 _I never meant to hurt you. Never._

 _The next time you ask, I swear I will give you the answer I've been too afraid to give. I'm done being afraid._

 _Hermione_

* * *

Severus' hand trembled. The postcard fell to the nearby table.

What had happened? Why couldn't he remember?

 _Get out._

He slapped himself on the face with his palm. What had he done?

That's when he saw it. A flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.

He was wearing a ring on his left ring finger— a small band of Black Hills gold that shimmered and moved like brilliant leaves in the autumn.

Severus fled from his chambers, heading to the one place that might help him.

* * *

"You won't need any sun cream; it's not even that sunny!"

Severus halted in his trek to the Headmistress' office. That voice was familiar.

There in the courtyard, the gargoyle that normally guarded the headmistress' office was shoving his large, wedged head against Hermione Granger's chest, making a soft crooning sound.

"You're incorrigible," she scoffed. "First Fawkes eats all my grapes, and then you steal my breakfast sausage! Aren't you supposed to guarding Minerva's office?"

The gargoyle didn't seem all the impressed. Instead, he whuffed her face and licked her cheek, his long sinuous tail wagging gently side to side. He knocked her prone to the ground and lay half on top of her, pinning her down.

"Ack!" Hermione gasped. "Not fair," she complained. "Of all the beasts of the world that want a familiar bond with me after Crooks, I get Hogwarts' gargoyle?"

The gargoyle drooled on her hair, giving it a slurp-over.

"Argh!" she complained as her hair writhed like serpents and then suddenly went perfectly poker straight. She sighed. "At least my hair finds you complementary."

The gargoyle murrred and wrapped a wing around her, nuzzling her.

"You are being terribly clingy today, Goliath. Fawkes too. Have you two been talking?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

Goliath the Gargoyle murrred at her.

Hermione leaned against the large guardian beast. "It happened again, what do I do?"

Hermione stared up to the sky and sighed. "I shouldn't have stayed, but at night— at night he remembers _everything_. Last night of all nights… he seemed so normal. He seemed like my Severus come back to me." Hermione sniffed, wiping her eyes. I know I shouldn't have stayed, but I had hoped if I did, he would hold on and remember us. I got up early, sat down to mark some papers before I left, just like I used to every morning. I thought, just a few hours more. I could watch him sleep so peacefully. I lost track of time. I was such an _idiot_."

Goliath nuzzled her, pulling her close with his folded wing as Hermione quietly sobbed into his stone-like skin.

"I guess, I should be happy he's still here," Hermione sniffled. "At least he can function during the day being a teacher. He doesn't need to remember me for that." Hermione had a bright blue squeeze bottle marked with SPF 50 sun cream in her hands, and she dutifully rubbed the gargoyle all over with it. The ornery gargoyle purred happily, laying on his back for her ministrations over his belly.

"I really don't think they made this stuff with gargoyles in mind," Hermione informed the gargoyle.

Goliath mrrred at her, voicing his opinion that he really didn't _care_ what anyone thought as long as she kept rubbing the coconut-scented lotion into his skin.

"I don't know what to do, Goliath," Hermione sighed. "Harry thinks maybe I should leave, you know, go on sabbatical. Get some time away— but during the night, he's so painfully apologetic. He's so desperate to make it up to me. I don't want him to make it up to me. I just want _him_ again— like it was, like it used to be between us. We were so happy. I— was finally happy."

Hermione sniffed, standing up. "You want to go for a fly, Mr Sun Cream?" she half-cried, wiping the tears from her face. "I can't stand brooms, but you've never once let me down, have you?"

Goliath purred, kneeling down for her to mount behind his head and in front of his wings. She climbed on, wrapping her arms securely around his neck. The gargoyle stood, wiggled a bit to make sure she was secure, and took a few bounds before leaping high into the air, carrying the formerly-bushy-now-straight-haired witch up and over the Black Lake.

* * *

"Minerva?" Severus called, his face pale and confused.

"Severus, good morning," Minerva said. "What is it?"

"What _happened_ to me?" he asked, his face twisted into a pained grimace.

"Oh, Severus," Minerva sighed, her face changed into sadness. She extended a vial for him.

"What?"

"View the memories, lad," Minerva said. "You left them for yourself. I was to give them to you first thing if you ever came to me during the day."

Severus stared at the swirling memories. "I _gave_ them to you?"

Minerva nodded. "Yes, lad. The first night after it happened."

Severus clenched the vial tightly in his hand. "What have I done?"

Minerva shook her head. "It wasn't you at all, Severus. If anything, Hermione blames herself. The spell you took for her was meant specifically for her. Poppy thinks that's why it only partially worked on you."

Severus frowned and unstoppered the lid. He stood and walked towards where Albus had always stored his pensieve. Pouring the memories in the sieve, he lowered his head in.

* * *

"Severus, no!" Hermione was cradling him. "Severus!"

He looked up into her bright, beautiful face. His hands trembling. "I love you. Always."

"Severus!" She shook him. Tears were streaming down her face.

Beams of green and black were whizzing over her head, but she wasn't caring. She held him, her arms shaking, her face wet with tears.

"Take that Edgecombe bitch out!" he heard a voice yell. Auror Brown rushed by in a blur. More wand fire met each other. There was a scream abruptly cut off.

"Hermione! Hermione!" a voice yelled. "Come on, we have to get—"

"I won't leave him!" Hermione hissed.

"Take him to Grimmauld!"

Then everything went black.

* * *

Severus was blankly staring at himself in the mirror. One pale hand was pressed against the glass. His hair was lanky and haggard. His eyes were haunted.

"You won't remember this, not during the day, and you'll probably hurt her. She'd tell you that it wasn't your fault, but it kills her every day to see me… us and know we do not remember her. Marietta Edgecombe meant to obliviate Hermione, but you stood in her way. You saved her, but the price—"

Severus stared at himself in the mirror. "The price is during the day, you remember nothing of her and yourself, save that she was Minerva and Vector's apprentice. You'll know she's a colleague, but you don't remember the things that truly matter. The things that were the most important."

"You won't remember that she loves the smell of rain in the wind. You won't remember that you taught her how to fly. She sings in the shower. She loves the colour green, though she cannot admit it in front of Potter or the Weasel. You proposed to her on the Great Wall of China. You made love to her for the first time under the stars in a little place no one had ever heard of, and you promised her that you would always be there for her. You swore it."

"Fawkes came to her on the night you were supposed to die. Together, they saved your life," his mirror-self told him. "She never once called in a life debt to you. She finally got sick of you bringing it up, and she demanded only one thing of you: to call her Hermione instead of Granger, Miss Granger, Professor Granger, or whatever the hell you would call her instead of by her actual name. That is all she demanded of you, and that is when you finally gave her the chance to know you."

"She was scared at first— not of you, but of her feelings for you. For once, Severus Sodding Snape had more bravery than the bloody Gryffindor."

"She fled from you every time you'd ask her about the future, but she never once left your side, not really. One day, she came back from Australia determined not be afraid anymore. Seven years of dancing around each other finally ended with your proposal and her acceptance."

"Seven years and three more of the best years of your life," his reflection stated. "And then, one day, as you were celebrating the happy news of your upcoming child, Marietta Edgecomb sent a custom-made curse at Hermione, intending to wipe all happiness from her mind— of you, Severus. Instead, you stood in way. It wasn't meant for you. So it didn't quite work as intended. By day, you remember nothing of her after the point at which she came back to Hogwarts to teach. By night, you remember ever horrible thing you ever said to her and everything else."

"Trust me, if the Edgecombe witch hadn't been thrown into Azkaban for Dark magic curses… rather ironically, she was put there by Potter himself, I would have torn her apart for every single tear on Hermione's face. There is a special Dementor that was commissioned just for her— one that even Kingsley seems disinclined to remember that even exists."

"You may not remember the great love you shared with her, Severus," his reflection told him, "but I beg you, if you cannot say something nice to lock yourself away and keep from saying anything at all to her. Because at night— I remember _EVERYTHING_ , and I remember every last sin you have committed against the love of our life, the woman who is far too loyal, stubborn, and hurting for you to ever leave us behind, as we deserve."

Severus' haunted eyes looked back at him. "At least at night, I can hold her again. "I've thought about moving to someplace where the night it all the time, but it not fair to her to live in a place so isolated for your sake. For our sake. Our child— did not make it past the first trimester. Too much stress. Too much heartbreak. What good are we as a father when we cannot protect her or our child during the day?"

Severus clenched his fist on the mirror. "But if you really want to help yourself, Severus, find a way to break the spell. Our mate is suffering, and I cannot leave her, not even for a minute. I cannot. I dare not. It is up to you to make things right. Put that collection of little grey cells between your ears to work for _something_ that truly matters, before she finally realises that staying with us is slowly killing her."

"And if you don't do it for her, or for you, idiot," Severus said to himself. "Do it for our child growing in her glamoured belly; she works so hard to hide from us, lest it hurt us more."

"Our love created a _child_ , Severus Snape, and you _will_ make things right. Hermione needs you. Our child needs a father. Failure is not an option here."

* * *

"The starting point of all achievement is desire," Severus scoffed. "Where do they come up with such drivel?" Severus pointed to the etching on the Quidditch Cup case.

Hermione's head lifted, and Fawkes lifted his head simultaneously, which made for a somewhat unnerving effect. "Can't be worse than this yearbook entry 'This was the most fun I've ever had'."

Severus couldn't help but see the hidden pain in Hermione's eyes or how her hand automatically drifted to her belly. He pointed to another entry. "Don't procrastinate. Procreate."

Hermione moaned in pain, her eyebrows twitching fitfully.

"I am... truly sorry for my behaviour this morning," Severus said at last. "I feel that I wasn't really myself."

Hermione huffed slightly, shaking her head. "Mornings are hard for most people," she said neutrally. "It takes Flitwick at least ten coffees to become functional." Her voice was lighter and more casual, but there was still a great deal of pain hidden behind her words.

She traced one of the case plaques and sighed deeply. "I forgive you, Severus."

Severus opened his arms to her, and Hermione gave a soft, wounded cry, clinging to his robes as his arms wrapped around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"It's not your fault, Severus," Hermione said softly, her hands clenching in his robes. "It has never been your fault."

"I hurt you," Severus stated.

Hermione pressed her head to his chest, her body trembling against him.

Severus held her, his body aching with sympathy. "Hermione," he said her name like a prayer against her damp skin.

 _Damp?_

Her skin was very pale and her skin was almost— cold?

"Hermione?" he repeated, beginning to grow concerned.

She was completely unresponsive. Her small hands were still fisted in his robes, and she was still locked in a standing position, but she did not respond to his voice. Her swollen abdomen stood out plainly against her robes, and he suddenly realised that she didn't have enough energy to keep up the concealing glamour.

" _ **Hermione!"**_ he cried hoarsely. He quickly swept her up into his arms and rushed down the corridors towards the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"Eaghhhhhhhhhhh!" Hermione screamed, her body broken with sweat as she struggled with the labour that was not waiting for her readiness or blessing.

Severus held her hand, and she gripped it with an iron-tight squeeze. She screamed again, convulsions practically lifting her off the bed. "I'm here," he said, placating her.

Hermione looked at him with such hopefulness. Her eyes were watery with emotion and all the words she wanted to say, but her eyes flicked to the window where the first rays of the rising sun were starting to colour the horizon.

He knew what was in her mind. Minutes from now, the sun would round the horizon, and the Severus she knew— the Severus she loved— would forget her. In the midst of giving birth to their baby, the love of her life, the father of her child, wouldn't know her anymore.

"I'm here," he said desperately. He held her hand, clasping it with the other one as his wife screamed. "I love you," he said to her. "So very much."

Hermione had tears streaming down her face. She cried out in pain, even as Poppy waved her wand to easy it. "Severus," she whimpered, her breaths coming in short gasps.

"In and out, my love," he encouraged her. "Deep breath in. Out."

Her grip on him tightened as she attempted to focus on breathing. On the other side of the bed, Minerva was holding her other hand, the wizened elder witch wiped her forehead with a cool, moist cloth.

Hermione suddenly screamed, her eyes dilated as her body attempted to convince her that splitting herself in two would be far more productive and somewhat less excruciating. Both Minerva and Severus held her tightly, and Hermione attempted to wrench their hands off at the wrists.

A baby's wailing cry came following a gush of fluid that was released after the baby cleared her birth canal, and Poppy was poised to catch. Poppy quickly handed the newborn babe over to her nearby colleague, but before either Severus or Minerva could contemplate the hows or the whys, Hermione screamed again, practically pulling both husband and dear friend directly on top of her.

She screamed. She wailed. She almost kicked Poppy squarely in the face, but the experienced mediwitch had apparently been prepared, nimbly ducking just in time to avoid the younger witch's flailing foot. The assistant mediwitch beside her, however, did not manage to duck in time.

"Sorry!" Hermione gasped, panting heavily. She strained again, and there was soon another newborn in Poppy's hands as another gush of fluid flowed out onto the infirmary floor. Hermione panted, her eyes half-closed, her skin paler than Severus' own, and her breathing coming in heavy, almost painful pants.

The pair of mediwitches made short work of the afterbirths and the umbilici, and Poppy was waving her wand over Hermione's abdomen to ensure that she was not hemorrhaging out. She grabbed a potion off the shelf and mixed it with another until it turned a glowing baby blue. She guided it to Hermione's lips. "Drink up, Hermione. "This will replace the blood and give you some of your energy back."

Hermione was utterly exhausted, her eyes were drifting closed, and Severus kept it to her lips, cradling her back to keep her from choking on the liquid as she swallowed it down. Colour started to return to her skin, and her breathing evened out.

Poppy was swaddling up the two babies, and she brought them down to place them in Hermione's arms. The darker-eyed baby had a very distinctive, albeit tiny, aquiline nose. The other baby had just a few black curls, but her eyes were a radiant topaz-brown, seeming to defy the typical newborn eye colours.

Both babies were fussing, seemingly caught between a cry and staring as if trying to focus on what was right in front of them with various states of success.

"What will you name the girl?" Poppy asked, summoning her quill to finish the birth certificates.

"Chloe Minerva Snape," Hermione answered, pressing her lips to the baby girl's forehead.

Minerva's eyes widened, but Hermione's answering glance brokered no wriggling out of it. The elder witch beamed, a tear rolling down her face.

"And the boy?" Poppy asked.

"Julian Severus Snape," Hermione said with a smile, pressing her lips to the infant boy's forehead.

Severus was helping her cradle the two between them as Hermione tucked her head wearily under his chin, pressed firmly against his chest. He gave a soft cry of wonder, staring into the eyes of his son and daughter. A sob came from deep within his chest as he hugged them all tightly.

It was then that the sun fell upon the bed from the open window, the first searching rays of sunlight having vaulted the horizon and cast themselves down upon them.

Severus shuddered, his eyes frantic. He looked at Hermione with pain in his eyes. He pressed his lips to his children's foreheads. "I love you," he whispered. "I will always love you."

Hermione's tears streamed down over her face and onto her newborn twins. "Please, kiss me," she whispered.

Severus' face was streaming with tears as he pressed his mouth to hers— desperate and longing, passionate and possessive, but most of all filled with the purest, deepest love for his wife and his children. He pulled away, his face torn with anguish knowing that if he didn't pull away, he would "wake up" in a situation that would not end well.

Hermione's hand fell away from his as he pulled away, and she closed her eyes painfully. "I forgive you."

Severus stood, turning to face the sunrise— turning to face the fate he knew would wipe everything that he loved away until the day turned into night. He closed his eyes, trying with all his might to hold on to the soft touch of his wife's lips and the feel of his children in his arms.

Then there was a strange sound like the cracking of weakened ice under the feet during the spring thaw. Small crackles and sharper snaps filled the air. Then, as though someone had taken a porcelain vase and shattered it to pieces on the flagstone floor, an intense burst of powerful magic blew out from Severus' body like a hot desert wind. Dark patches of ash, like pieces of sheer black fabric, fluttered off of his body and away into nothingness.

Long moments passed as the dawn kissed his face, highlighting it with luminous hues of rose, orange, and gold. Severus opened his eyes.

The dark figure of the Hogwarts Potions master turned to stare at the small gathering in the infirmary bed. His equally dark eyes flicked to Minerva, Hermione, and then the bundled babes she held in her arms.

"Hermione," he breathed raggedly.

"Severus?" Hope filled her voice like nothing that had come before.

"I _remember_ ," he said, staggering to her side and falling to his knees beside the bed. Then he let out a shaky breath. "I remember _everything_."

Hermione sobbed in relief as Severus pulled her into his arms along with his newborns. His long arm yanked the crying cat Animagus over to him as well, making it a whole family affair. It was there they stayed for minutes or hours— none of them could be sure. What they were sure of was that for the first time in years, their family was truly whole again, and the family was also joined by two new members. Hermione's painful vigil had finally ended, and Severus' cursed duplicity was finally dispelled. It was said that no one in Hogwarts was ever happier than the Snape family in all the years they taught, lived, and guided the lives of students there. And long, long in the future, when their children's grand-children gazed up at the joint Headmaster and Headmistress Snape's portrait, a small silver tabby cat would often leap into their laps and sent out a deep, resonating purr so loud that it even woke up a snoring Albus Dumbledore. A grand legend grew from the story of a man cursed to spend his days lacking all the people that he loved and his nights desperately trying to make amends for all the pain it caused. It was a story of undying loyalty, overcoming seemingly impossible odds, and a genuine, true, healing love that truly conquered all.

 **It was also said, that on the very day the Snapes celebrated their most joyous reunion, one cell in Azkaban glowed a most brilliant shade of puce. The cell's lone occupant, one Marietta Edgecombe, woke up the next day, and every day after, until the very day she died thinking she was exposing the names of those in Dumbledore's Army. By the end of the day, every wall surrounding her had turned into a pitiless mirror, and all she could do was scream.**


End file.
